The Breakfast Club
by Oi-Watch-It-Spaceman
Summary: Rose Tyler is stuck in a Saturday detention with 4 other students including John Smith, the notorious troublemaker. Can the events of one day change them from complete strangers to friends or maybe more? AU of the Breakfast Club, but can also be read as just a normal school AU if you haven't seen the film.
1. Chapter 1

__**I've wanted to do this for ages, and now I'm so excited that I finally can. Anyway, hope you enjoy, more on the way soon :)**

_8:04am_

Rose was late. She hurried into the library, stopping short when she realised that there was no-one there yet before throwing her bag down on a desk and plonking herself on the chair behind it.

No-one should have to do detention on a Saturday. 8:00am until 5:00pm was just too long to be sat in school – after school detentions were bad enough. Rose was certain that she didn't deserve a detention anyway – all she had done was go home in her free period. How was she to know that yesterday was the only day in the entire year that they were going to check attendance in the afternoon?

The door swung open and Jack Harkness sauntered in. Rose watched him as he entered the room, looking around for a teacher before winking at her and settling at the next desk but one on her row. He was one of those sporty guys, Jack Harkness. Actually, Rose corrected herself, he was one of those _flirty _guys. She considered herself lucky she had only got a wink from him so far, by now he would normally have tried out his signature line ("Hi, Jack Harkness, and _who_ are _you_?" He was the only boy in the school that could pick up girls or guys using his own name as a pick-up line.)

Rose shifted in her seat a little, hoping the teacher would just arrive, check them in and then leave so she could maybe read a book or get some sleep. She was contemplating her nails when she heard the door creak and looked up to see Martha Jones standing in the doorway, looking nervous. Rose was certain that Martha had come to the wrong room – Martha Jones was known for being hardworking, clever and rule abiding, the idea that she had gotten a dreaded Saturday detention was utterly unthinkable. Despite all the evidence to the contrary, she made her way across the room and slid into a seat, placing a pile of books neatly on the table in front of her. Martha was going to medical school to become a doctor and, if the stack of medical books on the table was anything to go by, nothing was going to be able to stand in her way.

Martha opened the book on top of the pile and began to read, studiously ignoring Jack's gaze and Rose's curious looks. What could Martha have possibly done to be put in here for the day? The sound of the door opening drew Rose's attention yet again, and she looked around to see a skinny boy in a long brown coat strolling into the room. Of course, who else would be in a Saturday detention? None other than John Smith.

John Smith was famous throughout the school, his name known to everyone from the tiny Year Sevens to the Year Thirteens who were getting ready for university. Commonly known as "the Doctor" – the rumour was that he had saved a teacher's life by giving CPR when he was in primary school, and whether it was true or not the name had stuck with him – John Smith had a reputation as the worst troublemaker to ever come through the school. He was sarcastic, rude and yet, somehow, charming, making it impossible for teachers not to warm to him, despite his continuing absence from lessons and his blatant disregard for any rules.

The problem was that he was extremely clever, sailing through all of his classes and gaining top marks without even trying, doing no work and still managing to be the most intelligent boy in the school by a long way. Even without the complaints from his subject teachers, his escapades in and around the school were enough to keep him in either the head teacher's office or the detention room for the majority of his free time.

Rose ran through the list of rumours that surrounded him in her head, wondering if any of them were actually true. The best one was the story of how he had somehow managed to steal a phone box from the front of the school, getting it home and putting it in pride of place in his front garden before anyone realised it had gone missing. His reply when asked about why he stole it – "I didn't steal the phone box, the phone box stole me" – had passed into legend at the school, and the story would probably still linger long after John Smith had walked the halls for the last time.

He sauntered across the room, hands in the pockets of his suit trousers underneath his long coat. Sixth form boys were supposed to wear suits, but Rose was certain that the Doctor's version of suitable school attire wasn't exactly what the administration had in mind. He mostly wore the brown pinstripes he was wearing now – he must have about 10 of them all lined up in his wardrobe at home – but always with a pair of converse. He was taking off his coat, throwing it over one of the desks and plonking himself down in a chair in the row in front of Rose's. He never seemed to go anywhere without that coat. Rose stopped that line of thinking for a moment – since when had she paid so much attention to the exploits and clothing choices of John Smith? She supposed it must be what the boredom of a day in detention does to a person, and put it to the back of her mind.

The door slammed open and another figure appeared in the doorway, wrapped in a thick coat with the hood pulled up so Rose was sure the person inside it could not hear a word that was being said. The face inside the hood was surrounded by ginger hair, with eyes that were glaring mutinously at each of them as the girl they belonged to stomped across the room to the back table. She slammed down her bag on the chair next to her, sat down with a thump and flopped forward onto the desk, hood falling down and obscuring her entire head. She did not move.

Rose frowned, certain she had seen the girl before. Donna, was that her name? Donna... Noble, that was it. She was not known for being exceptionally brainy or athletic, but she didn't half have a mouth on her, if Rose remembered correctly.

Jack caught Rose's eye and grinned. Clearly he thought Donna's behaviour amusing, though Rose couldn't seem to help noticing that the Doctor (she couldn't help calling him by his much used nickname) was looking over at Donna curiously, twisting all the way around in his chair in order to look at her. He wasn't staring rudely – it was more like he was trying to figure her out.

"It looks like you're all here then, and what a fabulous day for a detention." Rose rolled her eyes and Mr Saxon strolled into the room. He was the last teacher she would have chosen to be in charge of detention - head of Maths, a young and fairly attractive teacher who managed at the same time to be smug, arrogant and utterly repellent, no matter his looks. He kicked the Doctor's legs off of the desk, smiling infuriatingly at the look of contempt he got from the Doctor. They were arch-enemies – well, as close to arch-enemies as two people could get outside of a superhero film. Being a teacher, Saxon could not be openly hostile towards the Doctor, but his hatred of him was well known by both staff and pupils alike.

"Well, my young troublemakers, I'd better lay down the ground rules. I will be in my office around the corner, any noise or misbehaviour will result in more detentions. You will not speak. You will not move from these seats. As a new addition to today's detention, you will be required to write a thousand word essay detailing who you think you are." He began to put lined paper and pencils down in front of each student, seemingly not bothered about the fact that Donna was still ignoring everything going on around her. "And when I say essay, I mean essay. I do not mean the same word repeated a thousand times. Refusal to write the essay and hand it in at the end of the day will result in more detentions. Am I clear, Mr Smith?"

He looked down at the Doctor, clearly enjoying asserting his authority over the disruptive pupil. The Doctor did not look up, answering – "crystal." – as he balanced the pencil that Saxon had put on his desk on one finger. He seemed to be trying to avoid an argument – maybe it was too early in the morning for that, Rose was certain there would be sparks flying at some point in the Doctor and Saxon had to be in the same room as each other for more than 2 minutes.

Saxon left, the door swinging shut behind him, and Rose put her head in her hands. Her chair was uncomfortable, the clock was ticking too loudly, she hated writing essays, and the Doctor had started humming Ian Dury and the Blockheads with no signs that he would be stopping any time soon. Perfect.


	2. Chapter 2

_10:17am_

It had been a couple of hours, and Rose was losing it. She had been staring at the clock for the past 20 minutes, willing time to go faster, silently bargaining and promising to give up chocolate and shopping and staying up all night on the internet if she could only skip to the end of this nightmare day. She kept getting the urge to check her phone, putting her hand to her pocket only to remember yet again how she would not be getting it back until the end of the day.

Everyone had fallen asleep for a while – well, Rose presumed Donna had, she still hadn't moved – but Saxon had been in before long to wake them up by banging loudly on the Doctor's desk, four solid beats. They had all jumped out of their skins, apart from Donna, and had been warned that, unless they all wanted another Saturday detention next weekend, they had better not be thinking about wasting time sleeping. Rose had tuned out of his ranting after about 20 seconds, but the message was clear: no more napping.

Head leaning on her hand, Rose caught sight of the Doctor out of the corner of her eye. He was sitting a few desks along from her in the row in front – well, he _had _been sitting. Now he was standing, brow furrowed in concentration as he attempted to add another two books to the top of the book pyramid he was making. It was quite an achievement, built in the same way that a regular person might build a pyramid with cards – two books leant against each other to form a triangle with the desk, 2 of the triangles supporting a horizontal book lying across them, forming the base for the next layer. The Doctor was up to 5 layers, using big heavy books in order to make the most impressive tower that stretched across a couple of desks, making it necessary for him to stand up to reach the top of the pyramid. Rose didn't award him with her attention, but she did keep shooting glances at his efforts as he finished his fifth layer and built up his sixth.

He stopped at six, standing back to admire his efforts before sitting back down on his chair, propping his feet up on the desk and twiddling his thumbs, clearly trying to figure out what he should do next to while away the time before they got to go home.

Rose stopped sneaking looks at the Doctor and peered around at the rest of the room. Martha was staring at the piece of paper that had been given to her, twirling her pencil around in her fingers. She must have been contemplating what to write for her essay, although her unfocussed gaze betrayed the fact that she was not actually seeing the paper in front of her at all. Jack was slumped in his chair, throwing a ball of blu-tack between his hands rhythmically, staring into space the same as Martha. Donna appeared to be asleep – at least, she had her head on the desk, the hood of her coat flopping forward to conceal her face.

This room was sapping the life right out of them.

Suddenly enough to make Rose almost leap out of her seat, John Smith jumped up onto his desk, spinning around until he was facing the row behind him and staying there, cross legged with his hands clasped together. "So," he began swiftly, not looking at any one of them in particular, "what are you in for?"

Jack did his best to look bored, but his eyes took in the Doctor from head to toe before looking at Rose and letting out a bit of a sigh. Jack might have been flirty, but as a football player within a group of football playing friends, he didn't normally have time for odd or unpopular students. And the Doctor was definitely in the odd category. He was in the process of demonstrating this, as he pulled a pair of thick rimmed glasses out of his pocket and placed them on his face before continuing to stare expectantly at the rest of the people in the room. Their silence seemed to confuse him.

"You're not actually scared of Saxon, are you? Come on, he can't really do anything to you. The worst he can do is give you another detention, and they're not that bad. This one's shaping up to be quite fun, I reckon." Rose raised an eyebrow, and the Doctor caught her expression. "Well," he qualified, tilting his head to one side and considering, "it could be fun, if you lot would do more than just sit there like lemons the entire time."

"I just wanna finish this essay and get out of here," Martha grumbled quietly, drumming her pencil on the desk impatiently. The Doctor grinned at her, crumpling up his paper in his hand and chucking it over his shoulder.

"Oh, don't worry about that," he said cheerfully, sticking his pencil into the pocket of his jacket.

"Why not? Not all of us want to piss off the teachers like you do." Rose turned to Jack in surprise. What had prompted that? Sure, the Doctor didn't abide by many of the school rules, but there was no need for Jack to be so hostile about it.

The Doctor seemed surprised as well. "What's got your boxers in a twist?

"Stop it you two, just get on with it or Saxon's gonna be in here," Martha warned, but quietly enough that the two boys could pretend that they hadn't heard her.

Jack leaned back until his chair was resting on two legs and cocked his head to one side. "Well for a start you're getting on my nerves with your stupid optimism. Why don't you just shut up! There's four other people in here you know."

"God, you can count. See, I knew you had to be smart to be a football player."

"Yeah, well I can count the number of arrogant weirdos in the room too and guess what, that one comes out as one!"

"If you care so much about it, just ignore him!" Rose wasn't sure whose side she was on, but she was certain that this fight was going to get physical if it wasn't broken up soon.

The Doctor raised an eyebrow, his eyes flicking between both Rose and Jack, before settling on Rose. "You couldn't ignore me if you tried." He grinned a mischievous grin and winked at her. Rose threw him a look that clearly said "you're not impressing anyone," hoping that he wouldn't notice the fact that she was blushing. If he did, he didn't say anything.

"Leave her alone!" Jack spat angrily at the Doctor.

"Hey, I don't need you fighting my battles for me, Harkness," Rose told him, bristling. "If I want him to leave me alone then I'll make him, it's nothing to do with you."

The Doctor seemed pleased by her words, though she wasn't sure why,

"Whatever, the point is that you spend your time doing pointless things and making life difficult for other people – not everyone can be like you."

The Doctor stood up, sliding off the edge of the desk and standing with his hands in his pockets. He was scrutinising Jack's face carefully, no doubt trying to figure out what had prompted this outburst. "What have I ever done to you?"

By now Jack was on his feet too, squaring up to the Doctor in a way that Rose was certain wasn't going to end well. Martha was sitting at her desk, pencil and paper forgotten as she stared at the two boys. She caught Rose's eye and widened her eyes slightly, indicating that she didn't really know what to do. "Oh I don't know," Jack replied, "what about the time you took the screws out of the door in the boys changing room, so it wouldn't stay closed and everyone who was walking past could see in."

"Wouldn't have thought you minded that, wasn't it you who streaked across the pitch when the girl's football team won the championship last term? And besides, that wasn't me, screws fall out all the time, the world's an imperfect place." He might have been lying, but Rose couldn't tell.

"Well it'd be a bit more perfect if it weren't for _certain _people being arseholes!"

The Doctor scoffed at this. "You're calling _me _an arsehole? Coming from you, a boy who seems to have no concept of anyone outside his idiotic football team and doesn't seem to have any goals outside sleeping with every single person in the school, I'll take that as a compliment."

"Just because I _have _friends! When was the last time you got invited anywhere, _John? _When was the last time you ate lunch at the same table as anyone else? Life's great when you don't care what anyone else thinks of you, isn't it? When you can do what you like because you don't have anyone who cares about you. You know, Smith, you don't even count. I mean if you disappeared forever it wouldn't make any difference. You may as well not even exist at this school."

Rose was aware that her mouth was hanging slightly open, but she couldn't seem to find the muscles to close it. That had been harsh, really unnecessary. John Smith might not exactly be the most sensible student in school, but he wasn't a bad person. He barely ever disrupted the learning of other students, he only pulled pranks that were funny and didn't cause serious damage, and he was clever. He would probably go on to university, maybe become a real doctor, he could do anything he wanted. Jack had been trying desperately to find something that could pierce the Doctor's carefree exterior, really hurt him. And by the look on his face as Jack finished speaking, he had managed it.

The Doctor's fists were clenched, along with his jaw. He looked properly angry; any trace of his trademark smile had disappeared. Rose wondered what he would do. He was notoriously non-violent, but in that moment she really wasn't sure whether he would live up to his reputation. Luckily, before Jack said anything else or the Doctor managed to retaliate, the argument was interrupted.

"Oh just shut up, you dumbos!" Everyone in the room froze, before turning in unison towards the desk in the furthest corner. Donna had sat up, flinging back the hood of her coat, and was glaring at them menacingly, hair standing up in a fiery red ring of static that gave her the look of a lion that had been disturbed from its slumber. "Give it a rest, it's bad enough being here without you two wittering on like idiots, just shut it or I'll clunk your heads together and don't think I'm bloody joking."

She folded her arms and rested her head on them, shutting herself off from the conversation as quickly as she had entered it. The other four sat stunned. Rose was the first to recover, allowing herself a smug smile which she quickly smothered.

"Well," she said to the two boys, who were both looking sheepish, the Doctor rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, "that told _you_."


	3. Chapter 3

**This took a little longer than I meant it to but it got here in the end, so that's the main thing. Review if you want, hope you enjoy.**

_12:01pm_

Rose had grabbed a couple of books from the shelves and had been flipping through them absent-mindedly for a while. After Donna's outburst, the room had gone very quiet, and both Jack and the Doctor had gone back to their seats. Jack seemed to be very laid back about the whole ordeal, trying to catch anyone's eye that he could and winking at them before settling down to sleep again. Now it must be getting near lunchtime – Rose's stomach had rumbled a couple of times, to her embarrassment – and the books in front of her were not remotely interesting. She glanced over at the Doctor. The argument between him and Jack had been eye-opening, and she was certain that he had not dismissed it as readily as Jack seemed to have done.

For a while the Doctor had been whistling nonchalantly, as carefree and relaxed as ever, but Rose could tell that Jack's last comments about not having any friends and being all alone had really gotten to him. There were just a couple of moments, in between time wasting activities, when Rose had seen his face cloud over, eyes dark and stormy. There was something underneath the over-excited puppy/infamous troublemaker exterior of this boy, something hidden inside him that Jack's words had somehow brought to the surface.

She spent the next few minutes drumming her fingers on the desk and quietly observing everyone else. Donna appeared to be drawing something on the desk – or possibly scratching something into it which, considering the sulky expression on her face, seemed more likely – and did not seem to be inclined to acknowledge that anyone else was in the room at all.

Martha was also in her own little world, though she had risked a shy smile across the room once or twice. Rose got the impression that Martha would be really nice once she had gotten to know her – maybe there would be time later. Right now she needed food, and she was almost relieved when Mr Saxon slammed open the door. Martha gave Jack a swift whack in the back of the head with a pencil case, and he sat up at once, alert and looking for all the world like he had not been just about catatonic a split second earlier.

"Well, lunchtime is upon us." Saxon clapped his hands together with a grin that Rose did not trust one tiny bit. "You'll be eating in here – I'm not risking you lot running around my school unsupervised."

"Excuse me?" The Doctor had put his hand up, something which must have taken him a bit of effort, considering how little respect he had for the teacher in front of him. "Sir, it has come to my attention that the majority of us in this room are extremely thirsty. Surely there is somewhere in _our _school that we can acquire an antidote to this condition." He spoke extremely politely, but Rose did not miss the slight sarcasm of his words, nor the stress on the word 'our', no doubt in response to Saxon implying that the school was his own.

Saxon regarded the Doctor as though he were a slug that he was expected to let sleep in his bed. "There are vending machines in the staff room, Smith."

"I'll go." The Doctor was already halfway out of his seat, smiling in a show of co-operation, though it did not quite reach his eyes, when Saxon held up his hand.

"No way. Sit." The Doctor glowered at him before slowly doing as he was told. The tension between him and Saxon seemed to crackle in the air like lightning. Rose hoped the Doctor didn't do anything stupid. "You." Saxon pointed at Jack, before glancing at the others. "And you." He pointed at Donna, who was facing away from him with her hood up again, not paying any attention. "Is she asleep? You there, on your feet missy!"

Donna looked up slowly, pushing back her hood before standing up and following Jack out of the room. Rose did not think she had ever seen anyone more reluctant to go anywhere – it was as if she were on her way to the gallows.

They trudged slowly along the corridor on their way to the vending machines, neither one speaking. Jack seemed curious to say the least, but Donna was not paying him any attention, not even granting him acknowledgement of his existence. For Jack, someone who was used to being noticed by everyone, this was too much.

"So, what do you drink?" Donna look over at him slowly, as though she were restraining herself from rolling her eyes at him.

"The blood of my enemies," she spat back, voice laced with so much sarcasm that Jack almost recoiled.

"Really?"

She sighed. "Yes, pretty boy, really."

Jack's hand flew to his hair. "Pretty? Really?"

"Don't try that with me, you aren't gonna squeeze any more out of me. I just used up my monthly quota of compliments on you, you should feel blessed."

"Oh, I do." Jack offered her his most flirty smile, complete with one raised eyebrow and a sparkle of white teeth. Donna merely blinked at him for a few seconds before continuing down the corridor.

To put it mildly, Jack was put out. It was very possible that he had not met someone who refused to fall for his charm since he was about three years old. Donna Noble was an interesting one, for sure.

"Hurry up!" Donna called. She had managed to get quite far ahead of him, not even bothering to look around as she spoke. "I'd like to get back to the library _before _sunset."

"Yes ma'am." Jack jogged up to her, giving her a mock salute. Donna glanced over at him, a smile brightening her face as she raised an eyebrow.

"Now that's more like it."

Back in the library, the Doctor had suddenly become more vocal. Rose wasn't sure whether it was the absence of Jack that had caused this sudden change in mood, but either way he was suddenly talking animatedly, this time sitting on the desk that was normally occupied by the librarian. It was one of those high desks where the person standing in front of it has to look down to see the person sitting behind it, and Rose found herself getting somewhat sidetracked by the Doctor's converse clad feet swinging back and forth a couple of feet from the floor.

Martha seemed a bit awkward, but also eager enough to abandon her essay writing attempts to chat to Rose and the Doctor. Rose could tell that there was something about the Doctor that was keeping Martha slightly on edge, so she occupied her attention by trying to pry the reason for Martha being stuck in detention out of her. Martha, for her part, remained quiet on the matter, smiling smugly and tapping her nose in the familiar "for me to know and you to find out" gesture. The Doctor found this all highly amusing. It kept him quiet for a little while as well – if there was one thing Rose was sure of it was that that boy certainly had a gob on him.

"What's your name anyway?" Rose swivelled around abruptly, turning from Martha and seeing the Doctor staring at her. The attention of his eyes suddenly made her feel like she had come to school today without any clothes on, and she risked a quick look down to check she was fully dressed before replying.

"Rose."

"Rose what?"

"Rose Tyler."

"Ah." The Doctor grinned at her. "Good name."

Rose shrugged dismissively. "It's just a name. What about you then, Doctor? What's with the nickname, and what's so wrong with John Smith."

At this, the Doctor wrinkled his nose, and Rose could tell she had hit on a sore spot. "I just... apparently it's the most common name in Britain – or, it used to be or something. Anyway, I know sometimes it's good to just blend in, but who wants to be boring?"

"Yeah, 'cause on the other hand, there aren't any doctors in Britain at all. I reckon you must be the only one with 200 miles." Martha laughed at this, smothering it with her hand to avoid becoming the centre of focus. She clearly wanted to see what the Doctor's answer was, and Rose couldn't blame her.

"Ah, but they are just doctors. Doctor Smith, Doctor Jones." He gestured toward Martha and she grinned. "I am _the _Doctor. The one, the only-"

"The arrogant." Rose allowed herself a grin, tongue curling between her teeth as the Doctor stared at her reproachfully, hand clutched to his chest.

"You wound me, Rose Tyler." She said nothing, continuing to look at him. "Oh alright then, yes, arrogant as well. Happy?"

"Very."

The Doctor scrunched his nose again, looking at Rose as if trying to figure something out. "Are you a virgin?"

For a couple of seconds, Rose just looked at him, not even blinking. By the time her brain had registered the question, both the Doctor and Martha were looking at her. "Do you literally just say everything that comes into your head?" she asked, almost exasperatedly.

"Frequently," the Doctor admitted. "And, by the way, I notice you did not answer my question."

"That would be because it's none of your business."

"True, but I still want to know."

"Why?"

He shrugged. "Curious. Trying to work out what you're about – and yes, I am a poet and I do know it – and that was one of the questions I found myself asking."

"Well you're gonna keep on asking it, because I'm not telling you." Rose wasn't really particularly against telling him, but she didn't really understand why he was asking, or why it was her that he had asked rather than anyone else. "I just met you a couple of hours ago, why am I gonna be sharing stuff like that with you?"

"Isn't that what today's about?" The Doctor wriggled around until he was lying across the desk, head hanging backwards over the edge so his upside down face was facing Rose. "By end we'll all be baring our souls and telling our deepest secrets, I guarantee."

"I doubt it." That was Martha, who seemed opposed to the idea of sharing any of her secrets with either of them."

The Doctor nodded anyway, head bobbing in a slightly disconcerting way, given the fact that it was still the wrong way up. "You have my word, as a Doctor."


	4. Chapter 4

**This was always one of my favourite bits of the film. Get to see a bit more of Martha this chapter, and a bit of DoctorxRose interaction. They'll all get their fair share of time by the end, don't you worry. Enjoy!**

_12:26pm_

By the time Donna and Jack had made their way back to the library with drinks – it angered Rose to see that, despite the fact that the students had to make do with water, the teachers still got Coca-Cola in their vending machines – the Doctor had managed to get himself another Saturday detention from Saxon. Rose quickly gave the others the full story – Donna was pretending not to listen, but Rose could tell that she was interested.

It had gone very much like this: Saxon had come back in and told the Doctor to get off the desk. The Doctor had complied by standing up on top of the aforementioned desk and leaping onto the one next to it, continuing in this vein until he reached the end of the line, where he jumped off onto the floor, landing perfectly with his arms in the air, like a gymnast. Rose was of the opinion that he might have gotten away with that if he hadn't then asked Saxon if all the lights were off at his house, because he had clearly gotten dressed in the dark.

Jack sighed, chucking a can of Coke in Martha's direction. She fumbled a bit but managed to hang onto it, rolling her eyes at Jack again. "I suppose you think that was worth it, do you?"

"Oh, definitely." The Doctor was sitting in the seat next to Rose now - he couldn't seem to be able to sit still for more than 5 seconds. Maybe he just ate way too much sugar. "Love to see Saxon getting a bit angry – plus he's dressed abysmally today. Besides, I don't have anything else to do this Saturday. I like to think of it as an adventure."

Jack rolled his eyes and turned away. The Doctor looked at Rose sideways and made a "what's up with him?" face. Rose laughed a little. His facial expressions were hilarious, it was like his face was made of elastic or possibly Play-Doh.

"What's funny?"

"Nothing," Rose replied, specifically using a tone that made him certain that there was definitely something. The Doctor raised an eyebrow at this, but shrugged before grabbing a can of Coke and flinging it haphazardly in Donna's direction. She caught it without even looking up from the desk. The Doctor and Rose looked at each other in wide-eyed confusion at this apparent skill. Either that or Donna had eyes in the top of her head.

"Are you eating or what?" the Doctor asked her, a little crease appearing between his eyes. It was at that moment Rose realised that she had forgotten her lunch. It was probably sitting in the kitchen at home. Damn.

"Er, I'll be fine, I forgot my lunch, I'll wait 'til I get home."

"No, hold on." The Doctor was still frowning, rummaging in the pockets of his jacket. His face brightened, and he pulled out first one, then another banana. From his expression, Rose would've thought he had just discovered a winning lottery ticket.

"One for you, one for me," he told her firmly, pushing the yellow fruit across the table and beginning to peel his own. "Best food in the world, bananas, couldn't live without them."

Rose nodded. "Oh yes, I'm sure. Without bananas your life just wouldn't be worth living, I bet." She smirked as he nodded eagerly, almost choking on his mouthful in his effort to reply as fast as possible.

"Exactly! They're so exciting! I mean, look at everyone else." He leaned over to peer at Jack."Hmm, sandwiches, boring." He stretched up a bit, bum just leaving his chair – _do _not_ look at his bum, _Rose commanded herself – nosing at Martha's lunch. "Soup. Slightly more interesting, but still nothing amazing." Martha, apparently concentrating on the medical book she was reading, stuck her middle finger up at that comment without her eyes even leaving the page. The Doctor gasped in mock horror as Rose laughed.

Both their heads swivelled round at a strange crunching noise that Rose couldn't place. It seemed that Donna had deconstructed the lunch she had brought with her, instead choosing to fill her sandwich with something else. Rose squinted at Donna's table. Ah. Sugar Puffs. Donna took another bite and stared straight in front of her, not catching anyone's eye. The Doctor, on the other hand, seemed delighted that someone had finally produced a lunch that wasn't completely dull.

"Ha! Now that's much better: Sugar Puff sandwiches, food of the gods." Rose frowned at him, pausing just before taking another bite of banana. "Oh right – apart from bananas of course." She grinned at that.

"Would you like a jelly baby?" The Doctor had produced the paper bag from his pocket – how was he fitting all that stuff in there? And who bought jelly babies in paper bags any more, come to that? – and was holding them out towards her. She took one, fingers brushing his as he stuck his hand in the bag too. Apparently he could not wait any longer for jelly babies. He tossed one in his mouth, chewing and grinning at the same time as Rose deliberately bit the head off her sweet, looking at the little decapitated body in her hand.

"Bundle of laughs, you are."

Rose shrugged. "He's not complaining." She pointed at the jelly baby, who was indeed not making a sound, before eating him in one bite.

"I am so bored, this is a nightmare." Martha had her head in her hands, elbows leaning on the desk. She had abandoned both her book and her lunch, neither of them able to seem interesting when she was stuck in this room for the foreseeable future.

Jack turned around to her and Rose somehow knew he was going to put his foot in it. He didn't seem to have a brain-to-mouth filter system. "No need to be like that, you're probably having fun – people like me don't enjoy this sort of day, even if there are _some_ interesting people around." His eyes flickered to Donna, who ignored him.

Martha sighed. "I don't want to be here any more than you do, you know. You don't need to act like I'm enjoying it just because you expect me to be doing work anyway. I knew that's what you'd be like if I ever got to know you, even if I hoped you might be nicer than you seemed."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Martha rolled her eyes and continued. "I always thought you'd be self-centred and arrogant and annoyingly over confident, but I like to think the best of people so I thought that maybe you'd turn out to be actually a decent person. Sadly not." Rose was internally rather pleased to see Jack being taken down a peg or two in this way, especially since it was Martha who was the cause of it. Jack had been talking down to Martha a lot that day, and she was sure she had not been alone in her hopes that Martha would tell him where he could shove his condescending remarks.

"And as for you," she twisted a little more in her seat, words aimed straight at the Doctor now. "If I want to actually write this essay and not spend next Saturday here like you, that's my business and not yours. OK?" She was looking at both of them now.

Jack muttered his agreement, while the Doctor gave a quick salute. "Yes Miss Jones – sorry about that, tend to get a bit annoying unless someone tells me to stop. Thanks."

"You're welcome." She offered Jack her hand. Still seeming to be slightly bewildered at the turn the conversation had taken, he shook it gently. The Doctor did the same, smiling at her with sparkling eyes. Martha gave them both a curt nod and a smile, before turning back to her lunch.

Rose caught her eye, winking and mouthing "nice one."

Martha winked back. "I spend a lot of time thinking I'm second best, but you know what? I am good."

They both laughed, and Rose turned away, happy to know that Martha could take care of herself. She caught sight of Donna watching from the desk in the corner, and risked a smile. She didn't get one in return, but the look she did get was not unpleasant, and she allowed herself to be happy with that. For now at least.

"You could say sorry, you know." The Doctor was looking at Jack. "I mean, I know you don't have to, but surely it's just good manners."

"Shut up."

The Doctor got an expression on her face that put her in mind of someone who was deciding to take up a challenge. He cocked his head on one side, considering his words in his head before they formed on his lips. "Didn't your parents ever teach you that you should apologise when you're rude to someone? Though by the looks of it they certainly didn't teach you to make your own lunch. However rude _I _might be, I don't need my mum to help me, like you clearly need yours to do everything for you."

"So what if she did? Not like you'd know what that's like, I suppose." Jack smirked as the Doctor's grin slipped slowly off his face. "The great Doctor, works alone, lives alone, doesn't need anyone. Why would you need them, you're doing so well on your own." The Doctor's fists were clenching, knuckles whitening and Rose couldn't hold back her urge to tell Jack to stop.

"Jack, enough."

"Oh come on, Rose, you can't think he's that different than anyone else. He's lying, he always makes out that he's so independent, then he thinks he can make fun of me for depending on other people, for having a family, it's pathetic."

"Well I don't." Both Rose and Jack's heads snapped up towards him. His eyes were like black fire, and Rose fought the urge to flinch away from him. "It's not a lie, it never was." He seemed perfectly polite in that moment, almost dangerously so, but by the time he carried on speaking he was shouting, all of his control and his calm demeanour evaporating in an instant. "No family, no friends, no anyone. I'm all on my own and I have no-one, so thanks for making me so aware of that. You're brilliant, really, I don't know what I'd do without you there to remind me of these things! You could've just stopped, but no, carry on, I really need to have it rubbed in my face, the fact that you're so much better than I am!" He was backing away now, feet moving of their own accord. His tone was laced with sarcasm and his forehead was furrowed, as though he were struggling desperately to hold himself together. "I don't think I have to put up with you any more – any of you."

The Doctor span on his heels and ran off across the library, dodging a couple of shelves of books and climbing up the side of the stairs to the upper floor using the banisters. He sat facing away from them on the higher level, feet dangling over the edge and head resting against the rail.

The rest of them remained silence. Both Donna and Martha were aiming accusing stares at Jack – the two girls, who had never met before today, somehow joined together in their disproval of what Jack had just done. Despite the Doctor being a troublemaker and a bit arrogant to boot, he was funny, effortlessly charming and quite sweet – in other words, likeable to the extent that all three girls wanted to defend him.

"Well how was I to know?" Jack was defensive. He sat down in his chair, slouching and looking at his own hands in an attempt to avoid catching anyone's eyes. Rose didn't believe that he was truly mean – she reasoned that it was probably bravado mixed with a little bit of jealousy that had made him carry on when it might have been better to stop.

No-one answered Jack, and they all continued eating in silence. Rose risked a glance over her shoulder every now and then. Out of the corner of her eye she could see the Doctor, his breathing slowing as he banged his head gently against the safety rail, feet dangling in mid-air.


	5. Chapter 5

__**This took longer than I meant it to, but the next chapter should be up fairly shortly, it's already half written. Hope you enjoy - my tumblr is greatbigouterspacedunce, in case you were interested :P**

_1:05pm_

How on earth the Doctor had managed to rope everyone in to a trip to his locker, Rose could never understand. The likelihood of getting Jack to come with him seemed remote, never mind Donna, and yet there they were, creeping down the Science corridor with the Doctor in the lead, hoping desperately that Mr Saxon would not choose this moment to check on them in the library where they were supposedly working.

It had taken him a little while to calm down, but about half an hour after lunch he had returned to the group, restored to his usual buoyant self. Rose wondered about what other secrets and painful memories he was keeping hidden, buried deep underneath layers of smiles and nonchalance and a long brown coat.

She had attempted a couple of times to go over and talk to him, but he had studiously annoyed her faint calls and her concerned looks. In the end Rose had decided not to climb up the stairs and talk to him, but to let him come back over to them in his own time. She sensed that attempting to make him open up would make him clam up further. He was a strange one, that Doctor.

They wandered along the next corridor, down a flight of stairs and through the hall. The Doctor did not seem to be making any effort to be quiet or inconspicuous. Martha was creeping, looking a little nervous. It appeared that, for all that she was a lot less uptight than Rose had originally (and wrongly) assumed, Martha was still not exactly comfortable breaking the rules. Jack looked a bit sulky still – Rose thought he was not appreciating being dragged along, especially since it meant letting the Doctor lead the expedition. Donna, on the other hand, was looking happier than she had been all day. True, she was not smiling, but she was walking with the tiniest of springs in her step, and her eyes were bright. Rose smiled as she noticed this, nor did she miss the sneaking glances that Jack kept sending Donna's way, apparently unnoticed or ignored by the red haired girl. Interesting.

"We're here!" the Doctor called back to the rest of them. Even strolling along casually with his hands in his pockets, he was managing to keep in front of the rest of them with relative ease. He had pulled out a pair of thick rimmed glasses and put them on his face as they approached the end of the corridor, clearly ready for whatever he was here to do.

"Why," Jack asked, "did you have to have a locker on the farthest side of the school?"

The Doctor considered this. "Luck, I suppose. Either that or they wanted to keep me as far away from science as possible. Apparently there was something in my locker that was interfering with some of their equipment, though of course when they searched my locker there was nothing to be found." Rose found herself grinning without realising she was doing it, and a glance to her right told her that Jack was doing the same. It seemed that the Doctor's charm – though manifesting in a slightly unconventional manner occasionally – had begun to work on him. Or perhaps it was a combination of the glasses and the fact that the Doctor walking in front of them gave them an excellent view of his bum.

In hindsight, it should have been obvious which in the long row on identical lockers belonged to the Doctor. It was the locker that had been painstakingly painted deep, midnight blue, contrasting starkly to the pale grey of the rest of the lockers on the row. He opened it carefully, and Rose was amused to see that every inch of it, both inside and out, had been painted. She wondered how long it had taken him, how much time he had given over to his efforts to put his mark on his own piece of school property.

He caught her looking. "They kept cleaning it, but I kept repainting it. After a while they just stopped trying." He stroked the door fondly as he began to use his other hand to sift through the contents of the locker, which were numerous in quantity and bizarre in appearance. "Hello, old girl," he murmured softly, and Rose let out a giggle. He looked up, faintly embarrassed with a definite pink tinge to his freckled cheeks. "What? I talk to her sometimes, it... she's... will you stop laughing at me Rose, please?"

Realising that she had flustered him – quite a lot, if the way he was running a hand awkwardly through his hair was anything to go by – Rose calmed down her laughter. "Sorry." She put out a hand and laid it gently on the locker's door. "Sorry," she said. The Doctor narrowed his eyes at her for a second, before he realised that she wasn't trying to make fun of him. Then he grinned, before delving once again into the tangle of what Rose identified as junk that filled up his locker.

She wondered if she should grab hold of him to make sure he didn't fall in and disappear. Half of his body was now in the locker, and Rose was reminded of the scene in Mary Poppins where Mary pulls a hat stand out of her bag. From where Rose stood, it did appear that the Doctor's locker was considerably roomier on the inside than it first appeared.

"Aha!" came the Doctor's muffled shout as he withdrew from the locker, slamming the door shut with a clang, a silver object clutched triumphantly in his hand.

"That's what we came all this way to get?" Jack asked disbelievingly.

"Oh yes!" The Doctor seemed to be in higher spirits than he had been all day (which was something of a feat, considering his normal level of exuberance.)

Martha leaned in closer, obviously intrigued. "What is it?"

"Well, I call it a screwdriver, but really it doesn't do much to screws – well, not yet." No-one could escape the edge of pride in his voice as he looked down at the unassuming metal tube in his hand. "I've been working on it for a while. It emits sound waves at different pitches depending on what setting I choose." He showed them the tiny buttons on the side, before pressing one carefully. The end of the screwdriver glowed bright blue and the device gave out a high pitched buzzing noise. "I haven't got it to work properly yet – well, it doesn't really do anything apart from that at the moment – but I hope that eventually I'll be able to get it to do simple things, override electric locks, things like that."

"Are we just gonna stand here all day staring at that thing or are we actually gonna go back." Rose swivelled around to see Donna standing with her hands on her hips, and eyebrow raised. Every time Donna opened her mouth – which was admittedly not very often – she said something sharp and sarcastic, and Rose couldn't help but like her for it.

They set off and retraced their steps along a couple of corridors, before they rounded a corner and just about ran straight in Mr Saxon, who was drinking from a water fountain about ten metres away.

"Back," the Doctor hissed, beating a hasty retreat back into the corridor where they would not be seen, "we'll just have to find another way to go, that's all."

They tried various different paths around the school, the Doctor leading the way, the loss of his carefree attitude and the little crease between his eyes indicating his worry. However, it didn't seem that they could get even half way back to the library before they heard the telltale footsteps of Mr Saxon around the corner, on the flight of stairs above or beyond the next set of double doors. The Doctor was tearing at his hair in frustration.

"Maybe we could make our way out through the Maths corridor and cut around, come in through the front entrance—"

"No." Jack stepped forward, breathing slightly heavily from all the running back and forth. "We're through listening to you. This way." He turned and began to lead them all the opposite way to the path the Doctor had suggested. Martha gave the Doctor a regretful look and followed Jack. Rose sighed before heading the same direction.

Donna started off, before turning around and staring at the Doctor. Rose looked over her shoulder to see the Doctor standing there, hands in his pockets and feet planted. She should have expected he would be ridiculously stubborn. Whatever Donna said or didn't say to him – Rose was too far away to hear – the Doctor seemed to finally relent, and with a roll of his eyes he began to catch up with them, Donna jogging behind him with her face looking ever so slightly smug.

As he ran past Rose, the Doctor stuck out his left hand and grabbed her right one. She was pulled along with him, struggling a little to keep up at first, before her feet began to match his rhythm and she felt a grin spreading over her face. This felt good. Right, somehow. They sped up, passing Martha and then Jack as the strangely out of place feeling of contentment swelled in Rose's chest.

It would have all have gone swimmingly if they hadn't have reached the locked doors. The Doctor pulled uselessly at the handles before pounding the doors angrily with his fist.

"Great idea," he said sarcastically as Jack ran up beside him.

"Fuck you," Jack replied dismissively.

"Fuck you, why didn't you listen to the Doctor?!" Rose was angry now, and she wasn't going to have Jack blaming the Doctor for things that weren't his fault.

"What are we going to do?" Martha asked, clearly wanting to get moving as soon as possible. "We can't stay here forever, has anyone got a plan?"

"If Saxon's wandering around the school now then he could be anywhere – we don't have a chance of getting back there without being spotted, and then we'll be in for it." Donna nodded in agreement at Jack's statement, but didn't say anything. Her eyes were flickering between everyone else as she watched them try to figure out where to go from here. Rose felt like she was being scrutinised when she came under Donna's gaze.

For the next few seconds no-one spoke. There didn't appear to be a safe way to get back. From Rose's point of view it seemed like they would just have to run back as fast as they could and pray that they weren't discovered. It wasn't much of a plan.

"Alright, I'm going." The Doctor gave his screwdriver to Martha, shoving into her hands and surprising her so much that she nearly dropped it. "Do _not _lose that. Not that I thought you would, but just be careful." He winked at her, before turning his back and taking off down the corridor, back the way they'd come.

"Oi! Where are you going?" Donna's shout was loud enough to stop the Doctor in his tracks. Rose wondered whether he shared her surprise at Donna actually caring where he was going, wondered if that was what had stopped him from running off without an explanation.

He span around and took a couple of steps back towards where Rose and the others had stopped, standing in a little group in the middle of the corridor like statues."Well, someone's got to distract Saxon if we're ever gonna get back to the library. We're just lucky he hasn't checked in there already."

"But he'll kill you!"

The Doctor scrunched up his nose. "Not really – not his style. I'll just get another detention or something. Besides, either I go or we're all gonna get caught. See you later." Before Rose had time to realise it was happening, he had given her a quick hug, close and warm, before darting off back down the corridor again, rounding the corner before shouting and whooping to his heart's content. Jack said nothing – Rose thought he felt guilty at the Doctor being the one getting in trouble, when it had been Jack who had told him to go the other way – and Martha still looked shocked, carefully cradling the Doctor's screwdriver in her hands. After the sound of his rubber soles slapping against the floor had faded away completely, Rose started walking, beckoning to the others to follow her.

"Come on then. We'd better get back. It sounds like he's going to the science labs, we'll go the long way round."


	6. Chapter 6

**I can only apologise for how long this chapter took - real life has to be more important than writing fics, despite however much i wish it otherwise. Still, hope you enjoy it, review if you want to and my tumblr url is greatbigouterspacedunce.**

Once they were back in the library Rose collapsed onto a desk, clutching the stitch that was causing a stabbing pain in her side. They had sprinted all the way back, Rose leading them around the edge of the school to make sure they were out of the way of whatever distraction the Doctor was going to set in motion.

They took a few seconds to catch their breath, Martha and Jack slumping down in chairs whilst Donna simply sat down on the floor, legs splayed out in front of her and red hair covering her face as she tried to breathe normally again. The silence remained long after their regular breathing patterns had been resumed.

"Still got that screwdriver thing?" Rose asked Martha, for want of any other conversation.

Martha held up the device for Rose to see. The light coming in through the windows glanced off the bulb at the end, and for a few moments Rose allowed herself to stare blankly at it, eyes fixed on the reflections but not really seeing what was there.

From outside the room the sound of footsteps could be heard, making their way closer towards the library swiftly. It became clear very quickly that there were not one but two sets of feet advancing along the corridor, the louder set clipped and sharp as they hit the polished floor. The other set of feet were familiar, and Donna's shocked eyes found Rose's as they both recognised the slap of rubber soles that indicated that the Doctor had been caught.

It was only then it dawned on them that they had assumed the Doctor would get away easily. The idea of him being caught wasn't really one that Rose had entertained for long – she had been much more concerned with getting the others back to focus on the Doctor's predicament. However, with the levels of hatred that Mr Saxon held for the Doctor (they had been enemies since the Doctor had first set foot in the school) his punishment was certain to be something serious – much more serious than just another detention.

Rose was jerked roughly out of her thoughts by a loud bang, and she looked up in shock as the door slammed open and Saxon came storming through, dragging a mutinous looking Doctor by the elbow. The Doctor was dragging his feet and showing as much resistance as possible without dragging his arm out of Saxon's grip and running away.

"Get your things," Saxon ordered the Doctor sharply, before turning towards Rose and the others with a smile that reminded Rose strongly of a shark. "I'm sorry to inform you that Mr Smith will not be joining you for the remainder of the day." It took Rose a second or two to remember who "Mr Smith" was.

The Doctor looked up and waggled his eyebrows at the rest of them, letting them know he was OK. Rose smiled, and she heard Jack's muffled laugh from where he sat to the left of her.

Saxon, who had a face like thunder and seemed eager to rain on someone else's parade, rounded on Jack, furious. "You think he's funny? You think this is cute? You wanna see something funny? You visit John Smith in five years time; you'll see how damn funny he is."

The Doctor draped his coat neatly over his arm while Saxon was talking, studiously ignoring what was being said and shrugging off the hand that Saxon attempted to place on his shoulder. He glanced around the room, locking onto Rose's eyes for a second before being shoved into the store cupboard at the front of the room, Saxon following him inside and shutting the door firmly behind him.

Rose looked around at the others and saw that Martha's face echoed the shock that she knew was apparent on her own. Donna had her hood up again, but she was glaring at the cupboard door with her brow furrowed, eyes bright. Even Jack looked worried.

"I hope he's OK." Jack muttered it quietly, but it was an accurate expression of what they were all thinking. Despite their varying degrees of friendship with the Doctor, the idea of him being in trouble had shifted something, their mutual worry bringing them closer together as they waited anxiously at their desks.

Once inside the cupboard, the Doctor headed right to the far side, as far away from Saxon as was humanly possible. He turned around and sat down on a pile of boxes that probably held staples or something equally as dull, pulling one knee up to his chest and resting his chin on it. His eyes looked up at Saxon, so dark they looked almost black, and filled with reproach and anger and frustration and a thousand other emotions that were flooding like poison through his veins.

Saxon acted liked he was so superior just because he was a teacher and he demanded respect because of his position – the Doctor felt that, if Saxon did not merit the level of respect that he expected from his students, then why should anyone have to give it to him? Saxon was mean, bullying, spiteful and dictatorial, with not the slightest ounce of compassion for his students. The Doctor found it hard to believe he had ever been a child himself.

"That is it."

"That's what? You'll have to be more specific, you could be talking about anything." It did occur to the Doctor that he might not want to wind Saxon up even more than he had already, but the little voice in his brain that was putting forward this argument was crushed under the weight of the rest of his brain, which was already planning the next sarcastic insult that he was going to throw at the sadistic teacher.

"That is the last time you make me look like an idiot in front of them," Saxon snarled, jabbing his finger at the closed door. "You are nothing, Smith. You might feel safe from me right now, you might think teachers aren't supposed to fight students, but you're not going to be at this school forever. And one day, when you've left and you've forgotten all about this place, I'm going to find you, and I'm going to make your life a living hell."

The Doctor glanced up at him, eyes dark with fury. For an 18 year old boy, the amount of anger in his gaze should have shocked Saxon. In reality, seeing that he had gotten to the Doctor only spurred the teacher on, making him go to even greater lengths in his attempts to get a rise out of his furious student. If Saxon could just get the Doctor to take the first swing, that would be it. Self-defence, restraining a violent pupil, he would have more than a dozen excuses for beating the boy to a pulp right there in that cupboard, with no witnesses apart from perhaps the other students who were no doubt listening outside the door, and who could easily be talked out of making any sort of statement. To Saxon, all the trouble would be worth it a thousand times over if he could somehow give the Doctor just a tiny amount of the grief and trouble he had caused over the past 6 years.

"Are you threatening me?" The Doctor asked, weighing each word carefully and allowing a small amount of confusion to creep into his otherwise self-assured tone.

"What're you gonna do about it? You think anybody's gonna believe you? You think anybody's gonna take your word over mine? I'm a man of respect around here, they love me."

The Doctor let out a derisive laugh, smirking as he saw a vein twitch in Saxon's forehead.

"Oh, you're a real tough guy. Let's find out how tough you are! Come on!" Saxon was right up in the Doctor's face, bending down a little so that they were nose to nose, eyes boring into the Doctor's. He seemed to be waiting for the Doctor to take the first punch. Unknown to him, the Doctor did not really like violence, and definitely didn't approve of fighting anyone, especially teachers. Some people suspected it was because he could never win a fight, while it was rumoured by some that he could knock someone out using only his little finger. Either way, the Doctor stood by his principles, however much it pained him to let Saxon think that he had won, and remained sitting down, shoulders drawn up and tense.

"That's what I thought." Saxon's self-satisfied smirk made the Doctor want to leap up and hurl something heavy at his head, but he remained silent, not moving an inch. Saxon turned swiftly and wrenched the door open before slamming it shut behind him as he left the small cupboard. The Doctor heard the door being locked from the outside.

He waited a couple of seconds, taking in his surroundings calmly, before leaping up and jumping onto the pile of boxes next to him. It only took him a couple of well place shoves to break through the grate above his head that led to the heating duct. He jumped up and clung onto the edge of the opening, feet in their converse trainers swinging freely. Even in this precarious position, the Doctor began to smile. Escaping was one of the things he did best.

Out in the room, Rose waited until Saxon was long gone before tiptoeing over to the door to see if she could unlock it and get the Doctor out. Before she had even attempted to open it however, there was an almighty crash, and the skinny figure of the Doctor came falling through the ceiling in a flailing windmill of limbs, landing on the upper level with a smack. He leaped up brightly, brushing off his suit and bounding gleefully down the stairs. He stopped on the bottom step, seeming to suddenly become aware of the 4 pairs of eyes that were staring at him, though Rose guessed it was for effect.

"Forgot my pencil."


	7. Chapter 7

**So this took longer than I wanted it too, but real life can be a heartless bitch. Anyway, hope you enjoy!**

_He leaped up brightly, brushing off his suit and bounding gleefully down the stairs. He stopped on the bottom step, aware of the 4 pairs of eyes that were staring at him._

"_Forgot my pencil."_

Silence followed for a few seconds before everyone, even Donna, burst out into laughter, the Doctor loudest of all. Rose leapt up from her chair and threw her arms around him furiously. In a split second his arms were already wrapped tightly around her, and for the second time that day she found herself hugging the Doctor, and thinking that there couldn't be many more things in the world that felt better than this. It took a few seconds for her brain to catch up with her actions, and as soon as it did she let go awkwardly, pulling back and grinning shyly.

The Doctor on the other hand seemed perfectly overjoyed at what had transpired, though he seemed a little more flustered than usual, ruffling his insane hair with his hand. Rose hoped that there would be a time when she could run her fingers through the thick brown strands herself. If she found her hand moving to mimic the Doctor's actions but managed to stop it just in time to pass it off as scratching her ear, she didn't say a word.

A sound from outside the door jerked them all out their reverie – for the others had been watching the Doctor and Rose with barely concealed smirks on their faces – and Rose hurriedly grabbed the Doctor's arm and dragged him across the room before stuffing him behind her desk, the only conceivable hiding place in the room. Luckily the desks were of the sort that had a solid wooden front to them, or the Doctor might have been in even deeper trouble than he was already.

"What was that noise!?" Saxon burst back into the room, and Rose felt the Doctor's body tense under the desk, her knees jammed into his side. She sat as still as possible, praying that Saxon would not walk behind her desk and at the same time very aware of the Doctor's hand resting gently on her ankle, more by accident than by design she was sure.

"What noise, sir?" Jack said the words so smoothly, with the right amount of respect and just a hint of confusion and worry that gave the impression he was nervous about disagreeing with Saxon's assertion. Rose thought frankly that she would never become as good a liar as Jack appeared to be, even if she lived a thousand lifetimes.

"_That _noise! Don't tell me you didn't hear it."

"Could you describe the noise, sir?" Martha chipped in. She looked at Saxon quizzically, but as he turned his head away from her Rose saw Martha look quickly down at the open book on her desk, mouth beginning to twitch up into an unstoppable smile.

"A loud noise, like a banging or something, you must have heard it."

Donna looked up. "I didn't hear anything, sir." The tone of the 'sir' seemed to indicate that Donna's word was the end of the matter, it was carefully polite but almost certainly an order.

Saxon glared at each of them in turn before spinning on his heel and marching out of the room, muttering something unintelligible under his breath that was clearly not complimentary.

The door shut firmly behind him, and after a few seconds the Doctor was fighting his way out from under Rose's desk, punching the air in a fit of euphoria and giving high fives to anyone within reach.

"Close call there, Doc," Jack said, clapping the Doctor on the back. Rose exchanged a look of pleased surprise with Martha and Donna. The two boys getting along - that was something new.

Now the Doctor's attention was focussed one Rose again, and she was reminded of their stance a few moments earlier, after the accidental over emotional hug, the thought of which still almost brought colour to her cheeks. Suddenly she wanted to talk to him alone.

"Do you wanna...?" Rose's words trailed off as she replaced them with a gesture of her head, indicating that they should go to the upper level of the library. The Doctor's eyes widened almost imperceptibly, and he fiddled with his out of control hair for a moment before nodding quickly.

They climbed the stairs together, Rose hoping that the feeling of the others' eyes on her back was just paranoia. They sat close together on the landing at the top of the steps, just far away enough from the desks that their every word would not be picked up and scrutinised by their avid listeners.

"Thanks for the save, by the way," the Doctor said earnestly, sitting cross legged with his hands fiddling with his shoelaces. "I mean, Saxon would have actually killed me this time. Throttled me probably. With his bare hands, no doubt."

Rose tilted her head to one side, in an attempt to appear indifferent, though it probably just made her look like one of her ears was a lot heavier than the other one. "Definitely. And you're welcome." Her eyes flickered to his and she smiled widely, feeling ten times more comfortable when he returned it with enthusiasm. He seemed to gain his energy from the happiness of the people around him, she had noticed. At least, that was her current hypothesis. He could do something utterly ridiculous in ten seconds time that would throw her whole theory out of the window.

One thing was for certain: she had never met another person like him before. Good thing too – one was hard to enough to keep control of, never mind more.

Donna had decided that it was probably wisest to at least look like she was sifting through the contents of her battered schoolbag, rather than just sitting and pretending that she wasn't sneaking peeks at the two students sitting in front of her.

Martha appeared to be reading a book, but she hadn't turned a page in a long while – Donna was quite please she had managed to pick up that small clue. Martha might've seemed harmless and absorbed in her work, but she had an air of being completely relaxed and confident in herself that Donna found a little unsettling. At least, unsettling enough that even when Martha was apparently preoccupied, Donna felt like she was being scrutinised.

Jack, on the other hand, was lounging across a couple of desks, sticking out his foot every now and then to nudge the book Martha was reading. The two of them had established a kind of easy relationship, in which Jack kept trying to disrupt Martha's work and Martha nonchalantly foiled his attempts with ease. They could almost have been a comedy duo. Donna would have been perfectly content to sit and watch their antics while the Doctor and Rose were chatting on the upper level, were it not for the fact that Jack's attention was straying to Donna far too often for her to feel comfortable.

"What's in the bag?"

"Nothing, now back off, Casanova." She hadn't really meant to snap, but Jack's ease and confidence was making her defensive.

"Oi!" Jack actually looked a little hurt by her ferocity, and Donna wondered if she might have gone too far, something which did not often occur to her.

"OK, OK. I'm sorry." The words came out reluctantly, almost sarcastically but not quite, and she quickly looked away from Jack, just catching a glimpse of the soft, open expression of surprise on his face before deliberately staring in the opposite direction. Martha was also watching, but Donna was careful not to meet her eyes. She got the feeling that Martha noticed a lot more than she was letting on.

"S'alright," Jack said, shrugging a little with his hands in his pockets. The look of hurt on his face has disappeared as quickly as it had arrived, and yet again he looked mischievous and cocky, just like always. Donna wondered if it was that air of carelessness that had lured all of those girls and boys to him, only to have their hearts broken. Not that he was having that effect on her at all. Of course not.

She shuffled her feet a bit, telling herself her trainers were too tight in order to account for the action. She wasn't going to admit, even to herself, that the presence of this ridiculous boy might be influencing her. "So, what's your story then?"

"Don't have one." He replied almost instantly, not even bothering to consider his answer before it was already out in the open air. Donna raised an eyebrow (a useful skill that she had honed over the years in order to give the best possible air of disbelief) and folded her arms.

"Don't believe that for a second."

"Well if we're sharing stories then why don't you go first?" Jack countered immediately. Donna knew she wasn't the brightest person in the universe – at least, not while the Doctor was around – but she was smart enough to know a deflection when she saw one. She filed it away to be contemplated later, before turning to Martha, who had been listening the entire time.

"What about you, Martha? What's your story?"

"Why do I have to have a story?" Martha looked Donna straight in the eyes, and Donna found her gaze to be slightly disconcerting. It was too open, too penetrating and, most of all, too knowing. "If I'm going to have a story then it probably hasn't started yet. This bit's just the prologue, the first chapter'll begin once I'm out of this place." She gestured to the shelves of books surrounding them, though she might've been was referring to the school, or possibly the entire city. Either way, Martha Jones was destined for great things. Donna could just tell – the calm but utterly charming exterior covered an inside that was bursting with strength and potential. Donna wondered how she had never seen it before, how she could have walked past this girl in the corridor and not felt the aura of quiet confidence and composure that radiated off her like heat.

Pulling her eyes away from Martha to glance at Jack, Donna saw that he had met with the same realisation that she herself just had. That Martha Jones was far from normal. That they had misjudged her.

Donna wondered whether she had misjudged all the others too, though of course she already knew the answer.


	8. Chapter 8

**This one took a while, but I've been so busy with Uni that I haven't had time. Do not despair, though, I am back now and I'm here to stay - hope you enjoy!**

**TW: suicide**

The "why are you here?" question was getting harder and harder to sidestep each time it was asked, and by this point it had been asked a lot.

Rose had been completely open with her answer – there was really nothing mysterious about it. She had wandered home in her free period because she wanted to get some sleep before her long weekend working at the shop. Of course, getting detention meant that she had had to get her shift covered by someone else. Rose hated that shop. She would have blown it up if she thought she could get away with it.

Apart from her, there was no-one else who seemed inclined to give away what they had done that had landed them in a Saturday detention. Rose knew that _she _was being made an example of; a warning against skiving off school when you should be studying. Jack had attempted to fob them off with some ridiculous stories about his antics around the school, but Donna had called him out on it immediately. None of them had missed the look that Jack gave Donna after she turned her head away from him – it was as though he was thinking that being chastised by her was a privilege. Rose saw the Doctor and Martha exchange significant looks, and knew that they were thinking the exact same thing that she was. It seemed that Jack was deep in the process of falling for scowling, irritable, sarcastic Donna, no matter whether she returned his feelings or not.

The Doctor had skirted nimbly around the edge of the subject every time the conversation veered towards it – it seemed to be something that he was very skilled at, deflection.

As for Donna, she simply ignored any parts of the conversation that she did not find interesting or care about, choosing to sit huddled inside her big coat with her arms folded, glowering at the world. They were sitting in a loose circle on the upper level of the library, just at the top of the stairs, a couple of them sitting propped up against the railings and the rest leaning against the library shelves. Martha, Donna and Jack had gone to join Rose and the Doctor upstairs after a little while – partly for the conversation, but mostly because they were nosey as to just what was going on between the two of them. Apparently, as of this moment, not much. Just a few glances and smiles, as far as any of them could tell.

Martha was finally opening up – it turned out she'd been trying to study while being teased by a load of boys in the library, so she lost her temper and quickly dealt with a few of them. She hadn't actually hurt any of them – from her description it sounded as though they were simply in shock that she had it in her – but once word got out that she had started a fight in the library, that was that. "My parents were _not _pleased," she concluded, but there was a slight smile at the corner of her mouth, suggesting that she did not regret what she had done. Rose was impressed.

"So come on then, who's next?" Rose looked round at the rest of their company, who all remained silent. "Oh come on, me and Martha have both told you, what have you done that's so bad that you can't tell us?"

"She's right, you know," Martha added matter of factly. "I don't get what's such a big deal."

"Well you wouldn't, would you?" The Doctor sounded almost angry, and Rose turned towards him with shock evident on her face. "What you did was perfectly justified – it's a one time thing for you, you've got the moral high ground. What if we don't?" He gestured to himself, Jack and Donna, neither of whom gave any inclination that they agreed or disagreed with him. It was unclear whether or not Donna was even listening. "We don't have any obligation to tell you anything, and I'm not gonna be forced into bearing my soul to you lot just because this is an interesting experiment for you that you can have a good laugh to your friends about on Monday."

"Well it's not my fault," Martha retorted. "It's not like you have to be in here constantly, you could toe the line and obey the rules like the rest of us, it's not like anyone's forcing you to act like an idiot. It's not like anyone's forcing you to act like a complete arse right now, but here you are, doing it anyway." Rose opened her mouth to say something – she wasn't sure what it was going to be yet – but the Doctor was arguing right back in an instant, cutting off Martha's last few words in a stutter of indignation.

"Well I'm glad you're here to tell me this, I've seen the light, why didn't I think of it before?!" His voice rang with sarcasm – it echoed throughout the room as he threw his arms out in mock joy. "I'll just get started on not being such a loser right now then, shall I? Did it ever occur to you that I might not want to be like you? That if I had anyone around to push me to do better or to wish me luck or help me along like you so obviously do, that I might be a bit happier and less prone to idiocy? That if I didn't have stupid, narrow-minded, ignorant teachers like Saxon on my case all the time, I could be out of here by now? I could have a flipping degree by now if I'd been given the chance, but who's going to help me? No-one. 'Cause I'm a loser and a troublemaker and an idiot, and changing my ways now is slamming the stable door shut after the horse and bolted and been shot, so don't tell me what I should do, and don't tell me that I have to be open about what I did that put me in here, because if there's one thing I can do, it's talk about whatever I want I am _not _talking about that!"

The Doctor's voice sounded almost strangled by the end, and Rose had the horrible suspicion that he was holding back a sob. She waited for a second or two before gently placing her hand on his arm, light enough that he could throw it off if he wanted to. He didn't. He let her hold it for a second before grabbing her hand in his own, holding it tightly as he stared unseeingly at his knees. Martha was shocked but silent, clearly having stirred up something in the Doctor that was beyond her understanding.

A few seconds of silence followed, through which Rose felt the Doctor's hand slowly loosen on her own, and his breathing return to normal. She sighed with relief that he was OK, resting her head on his shoulder sleepily as though it were second nature. Approximately one second later her eyes shot open and she quickly lifted her head, pretending that she had not noticed Martha's eyes following her, and the smile that was planted firmly on her face.

"I just didn't want you all to know that I'm failing." Jack looked thoroughly miserable, staring unseeingly ahead of him without even bothering to check if the rest of them were listening. "Yeah, spent a lot of time pricking around doing stupid stuff, but unlike him," – he nodded his head stiffly towards the Doctor – "I don't have the genius brain to pass subjects without bothering to turn up to lessons. My dad found out about what I was doing, so he told the teachers that every time I missed a class they should put me in Saturday detention – said it would fix the little problem I have with 'throwing away my school career'."

"Being clever isn't all fun and games, you know."

Jack raised an eyebrow at the Doctor. "Yeah, but I bet it comes in handy. When was the last time you failed a test? It's not fun!"

"There are worse things," the Doctor muttered. Rose could sense that he was about to reveal something – the tension in the air was palpable, she could have cut it with a knife. The Doctor took a deep breath, closing his eyes and tensing his shoulders before beginning to speak, saying more in one minute than his gabbling had told them through the entire day.

"A long time ago – over a year ago, definitely – I broke onto the roof. No-one's supposed to go up there, but I managed it – you know me." He gave a small grin before his face fell back into a tight frown. "I was... I was planning to jump." The Doctor's hand felt so solid in Rose's, and she held onto it as though it might be ripped away from her at any moment, eyes riveted on his face as he falteringly told his story. "I didn't – well, obviously I didn't – but I just felt so... so alone, you know? I have no-one left, really no-one. My family all died when I was young, I lived with my Grandad Wilf, but then last year he... Well there was no-one, and everything seemed so pointless, the work was too easy to keep me occupied and I had no-one to talk to and I just... Eventually I talked myself down from there - kept looking at the people walking around the school and thinking that if they had something to stay alive for then surely I could find something in the entire world to stop me from wanting out. I left the roof, and since then I haven't thought about doing it again, not once, because I knew that I was going to find something to live for. Playing pranks and breaking rules is my way of coping, I guess, playing for time until I decide what I'm on this planet for. Anyway, that was all done with, finished, never speak of it. But they found the chain and padlock from the roof door in my locker. Shouldn't have kept it really, it's been there over a year and nothing's come of it, but there you go. They had proof it was me, slammed me in here, that was that. So there you go. That's me."

Rose had tears in her eyes as she watched him try and bring a smile to his face again. It took such a gargantuan effort, and when his eyes finally met hers she could see that the pain of the past was still there on the surface, consuming him for the moment before it passed and he would manage to bring himself back to the present. He glanced round at the others in the circle, swallowing a couple of times and clearing his throat.

"So, anyone got any other soul-bearing to do? I don't want to steal the show or anything." The casual question was clearly meant to sound cheerful, but there was no real feeling behind it.

"I didn't even do anything." All heads flicked to Donna, who had emerged from the hood of her coat where she had apparently been listening the entire time. "I didn't have to come here; I just didn't have anything better to do today."

Silence descended on the group. Silence, followed by immediate hysterical laughter.

No-one was sure if Donna was telling the truth of not, but it didn't occur to any of them to care. Martha was lying on her side and shaking with laughter; Jack threw his head back and whacked it on the railings, earning himself an extra loud peal of laughter from Donna, who pointed at him and continued to giggle almost silently. Rose and the Doctor were leaning against each other, each relying on the other to support them as they shook with bellows of laughter, hands still held firmly between them.

As the laughter began to ebb a little, Rose caught Donna's eye. Donna held her gaze for a moment, before giving her a wink and mouthing "it's doing him good," with a nod towards the Doctor. The Doctor had needed a laugh, and Donna had provided one. Rose glanced over at the Doctor's face and smiled – his eyes were still screwed shut and his face was completely open in the way that only happens when a person is laughing, so wrapped up in happiness that they are oblivious to anything else in the world. The laughter was definitely doing him good.


	9. Chapter 9

**Only one chapter after this. This fic has taken a while, but I've been quite busy and it's been nice to have something to take my mind off things. I've enjoyed it, I hope you have too. **

Martha seemed to be on the urge of saying something for the next ten minutes or so, and it was only after much persuading and a continuous chant of "spit it out, spit it out!" from Donna that she finally decided to speak her mind.

"Do you think we'll... all stay friends? After this is over?"

Rose had not really considered it, if she was honest with herself. She had been focussed purely on the events of the day up until now, her brain stuck in the moment with no thought to the future. She looked around at the other four people who sat around her, their faces blank as they submerged themselves in thought. She had become quite attached to them all – some more than others, she admitted. She had come to love Jack's wild stories and his ability to make everyone feel good about themselves, Martha's sharp eyes and dry sense of humour that made her such a delight to be around, Donna's straightforward manner and strong attitude that covered up the sweetness underneath. As for the Doctor, Rose was unwilling to discuss what her feelings about him were, even in her own head. The only thing she would allow herself to think was that, since he had turned up, she had felt happier than she had done in a long time.

Inside her, Rose felt a sudden swell of sadness at the thought that, when this day ended, they might leave the school and never acknowledge each other again. She might have some regular friends on the days when she wasn't in detention, but these people... they were different. Talking to them now, sitting cross legged in a circle like five-year-olds, felt almost instinctual. As if they had known each other all their lives, but hadn't realised it until now.

"I will." Rose was more certain of this than she had realised. "I mean, I want to. It depends on you lot, of course, but I really want to stay friends with you lot."

Martha smiled at her. "I agree. I know some of us are generally more solitary," – she glanced at the Doctor – "and some like to hang with a slightly more popular crowd," – she jerked her head towards Jack – "but this works. Definitely."

Donna elbowed Jack – quite hard, by the pained expression on his face. "Well I'm definitely in, you?"

"Well, I'm not saying that you're the sort of people I'd normally hang out with," Jack started, and Rose raised an eyebrow. "But," he carried on when he saw the mutinous looks being thrown at him like knives, "I promise that I will stay friends with you all. I give you my word."

"And what about you?" Donna rounded on the Doctor, an accusation in her voice.

He started, but managed to maintain what cool he possessed, and answered smoothly but seriously. "I promise."

"You'd better," replied Donna, eyes narrowed at the tall, skinny boy. Her air of command and the way the Doctor looked down at his shoes as though he were sheepish made Martha, Jack and Rose laugh. Donna was not taking any crap from the Doctor, it appeared, nor from Jack or anyone else who she happened to come across.

And with that the conversation was over, slipping very suddenly into the dancing.

Oh, the dancing. Why had Rose never thought that they should do this before? It was absolutely fantastic. Martha found some old records and the record player, making quick work of the speaker system controls in order to blast the music all through the library. By this point they were all beyond caring if Saxon heard them or not – they were in full "Rebellion" mode, a fully armoured tank could not have stopped them.

Rose had great fun sliding down the banisters and jumping off the end, leaping about and waving her arms without a care in the world. Martha turned out to be surprisingly skilled at dancing, and could even moonwalk, a feat which garnered a round of applause and a yell of "fantastic!" from the Doctor. Jack proved to be just as smooth at dancing as he was when he spoke, even managing to grab Donna and dance with her for a few minutes, twirling her gracefully in and around the shelves and stacks of books. Rose was astounded to hear a giggle from Donna, a sound that she had not heard yet from the girl nor expected to hear, especially since Donna had been so scornful of Jack for the entire day. And yet here they were, dancing around for all the world to see. At least, if the world's population had bothered to come and take a look at them. Of course Donna shrugged him off after a little while, mumbling about boys and their ridiculous notions, but there was a slight smile at the corner of her mouth that she did not seem to be able to disguise.

As for the Doctor, his dancing was quite hilarious, utterly endearing, and surprisingly attractive all at the same time. Despite the waving of his skinny limbs and him pretending to play instruments and sing, he had rhythm, and Rose had to remind herself to stop staring at his hips, before he noticed and presumed she was staring at another part of his anatomy and began to tease her mercilessly. She found herself dancing with him more than the others, never quite touching and yet never far away enough to maintain that they were dancing apart.

The record finally ran to the end and the needle lifted, silence filling the room and pressing in on Rose's ears after so much sound echoing about the room for so long.

Every single one of them collapsed breathlessly, sprawled out on chairs, over tables and, in Donna's case, on the carpet. For a few minutes there was no sound apart from 5 sets of lungs pulling in air, desperately trying to regain some sense of normality. The Doctor was the first to recover – the exercise seemed not to put the same strain on him as it did the others – and he sat on the edge of one of the desks with a half smile on his face. The joy and euphoria he had felt a few moments before had not quite flowed out of his veins yet, and he was just about buzzing with barely contained happiness.

"You'd better get back in there, you know," Jack said casually to the Doctor, nodding his head towards the cupboard that had become the Doctor's makeshift prison. The Doctor did not move except to arch one eyebrow. Rose wasn't quite sure why she found that tiny movement so attractive, but she most definitely did.

"Not that I was to shove you in a cupboard or anything," Jack protested, and Martha giggled, "or, maybe I do, I dunno, but Saxon'll be back to let you out at some point, and if he catches you outside then you're done for."

"I suppose you're right," the Doctor groaned, stretching his arms above his head before jumping up from the floor. He had so much energy, that boy. He never walked if running was possible, he jumped up rather than stood up, he talked so fast it began to garble together in a string of incomprehensible syllables if you weren't properly attuned to his frequency. They watched as he began to wander off across the library. "Where do you think you're going?" Donna shouted after him.

"Well I've gotta climb back through the ceiling somehow!" he called over his shoulder.

A few precariously balanced tables and a bruised elbow later ("well it wasn't balanced properly you idiot, haven't you ever built a tower before?!") the Doctor had managed to pull himself into the ceiling and was on his way back to captivity. Rose walked along the library floor, twisting her head towards the ceiling and tracing the path the Doctor would be taking with her eyes.

"I know that look." Rose swivelled to see Martha standing a few feet behind her, smiling to herself.

Donna walked up to stand beside her. "Me too. What are you planning, missy?"

Rose grinned at the pair of them – oh, she was definitely staying friends with these two, they didn't miss a trick – and looked over at the cupboard door, then at the library desk, and back to Donna and Martha. "I think... some breaking and entering."


	10. Chapter 10

**And boom. Finished. Hope you all enjoyed it, and thankyou so much for sticking with me til the end. My tumblr is greatbigouterspacedunce if you are into that sort of thing. Thanks again. **

The Doctor was slumped on a couple of boxes in the corner of the supply cupboard, tapping his foot and wondering idly how long it would be before he was let out of this tiny, stationery-filled prison. Maybe he had gotten back in here a bit too soon – it was probably going to be at least an hour before Saxon came back to let him out, a moment that he was looking forward to with the highest level of enthusiasm. Nope, no more chatting or dancing or hysterical laughter for the Doctor that day. He was on his own again.

Which was why he was more than a little bit surprised when where was a scraping sound at the door, before the handle turned and Rose stepped inside, shutting the door behind her and leaning against it. She looked as though she were just about managing to conceal a bit of nerves and a good amount of excitement behind a reasonably smug smile.

"How did you do that?" the Doctor asked, eyes wide with wonder and a sparkle of amusement.

"Used that screwdriver of yours." Rose waited just long enough for the Doctor to stutter with amazement before letting out a giggle. "Of course I didn't, you moron, how would you expect me to get it working when even you can't do it yet, and you're the one who knows what it does!" The Doctor raised an eyebrow and attempted to look disapproving.

"Alright then, Rose Tyler, now you've had your joke, how did you really get in?"

"There's a spare set of keys in the desk. For all that you're supposed to be a genius and Saxon is meant to be a teacher, neither of you are that bright."

The Doctor laughed out loud at that, swinging his legs off of the box he'd been resting them on and letting them dangle in front of him, the toes of his battered converse just barely skimming the floor. Now that neither of them was saying a word, Rose could sense just a hint of awkwardness under the Doctor's casual facade. It was there in the way his hands couldn't seem to keep still, the way his eyes kept darting to meet hers and then skittering away again. Personally, she found it adorable.

"So," he began slowly, "we've managed to establish _how _you came to be in here. The _why, _on the other hand, continues to be a mystery to me. Care to elaborate?"

Rose tucked her hair behind her ears in a gesture that was more to stop her hands from fidgeting that anything else. "What, so you're not going to guess? I bet you're rubbish at Cluedo, just wanting to know the answer all the time instead of working it out for yourself. Not exactly Hercule Poirot, are you?"

He spent a few seconds twirling an imaginary moustache before dropping his hand and letting the awkward silence settle around him like dust once more.

"Well, I wanted to see you," Rose admitted with a vague attempt at acting casually. "You know, not for any specific reason or anything, just making sure you hadn't died on the way back here or something."

The Doctor chuckled a little at this, then fell silent, looking at her as though he were seeing straight through her and into her head. It might be a cliché but it definitely felt that way to Rose. She looked around the room before her eyes settled back on him. The intensity of his gaze made her want to blush, and she desperately tried to fight the redness she could feel rising in her cheeks.

It wasn't until he shifted and stood up from his position on the boxes than Rose realised just how tall he was. She must have noticed before – she had been with him nearly all day – and yet now, standing so close to him that she could feel his breath on her cheek, he seemed taller than ever. He was looking down at her, head tilted a little to the side as though she were a puzzle he was trying to solve. Evidently he found the answer he was looking for in her face, because after gazing at her for a few more seconds, he leaned down and kissed her, eyes flickering shut just a second before hers.

Rose had to admit that, though she had not kissed that many different people in her relatively short life, she had had her fair share of good kisses. This one, however, made her think that she had been judging all the others by the wrong scale. A kiss that would have made her head spin before would now seem like a peck on the cheek compared to what she and the Doctor were now doing. It was some sort of wonderful combination of lips and tongue, his hands round her waist and hers in his hair, a smell that she couldn't quite put her finger on and the warmth of his body pressed firmly against hers, just the right amount of each separate element mixed together to create something that had Rose thinking that her knees were going to buckle at any moment.

At last they separated, both gasping for air. Rose was worried that the Doctor might try to pull away, but he stayed where he was, body flush against hers and hands holding her waist. She left her arms around him, playing with the strands of hair at the nape of his neck as they both pulled much needed oxygen into their lungs.

"Well, that was good," Rose said finally, voice sounding a bit more breathless than she would've liked, especially since the Doctor seemed a bit too pleased with exactly how breathless she was. Still, he was breathing quite hard as well. It appeared that Rose's kissing skills had not disappointed. "I don't normally kiss people in cupboards," she told him.

"I don't normally kiss people at all," the Doctor replied thoughtfully. He looked up and saw her staring at him. "I don't mean I've never kissed _anyone_," he qualified, rolling his eyes, "I just mean that people generally consider me to be weird with a capital W. Most of my prior kisses have been under rather bizarre circumstances to tell you the truth. Anyway," he continued before Rose had the time to enquire exactly what circumstances he might be referring to, "you might not kiss people in cupboards a lot, but you've got to admit that it's a pretty good way to go about it."

Unable to think of a suitable reply that didn't involve revealing exactly how blown away she was by the Doctor and his kissing skills, Rose nodded. Nodding was good, nodding was slightly more indifferent than snogging his pants off, which was the only other option her brain could conceive of at that moment.

The Doctor stepped backwards, only just far enough so Rose's arms slipped from his shoulders. She felt the loss of contact only for a second, his hand resting in hers before she had time to register that he had moved."Anyway, it's gotta be nearly time to go now, you'd better get out before Saxon comes back – unless you want some more, that is." He waggled his eyebrows at her, face stretched into a cheeky grin.

Rose shook her head, lips curling into a smile. "You think you're so impressive."

The Doctor looked scandalised. "I am so impressive!"

"You wish," Rose replied sweetly, dropping his hand reluctantly before slipping quickly to the door and stepping outside, leaving a deflated yet amused Doctor behind her as she shut the door firmly and locked it.

The next hour or so was relatively calm, with a lot of clock watching as the hands slowly ticked round to four o'clock, when they would be allowed to go home. Martha was sat at one of the desks with a pencil and a piece of paper, frowning and pursing her lips. After some discussion, they had all agreed not to bother to write their essays, an act of rebellion or simply laziness depending on the point of view. Martha had volunteered to write a short letter to Saxon instead of an essay, in order to show him that they would not allow him to destroy their spirits. She had been working hard at it for a while, but now they only had a few minutes of detention left, she was finally ready to let the others see what she had written.

Martha passed the final essay to them, and Jack held it while three sets of eyes moved quickly back and forth, taking in the words that Martha had printed neatly on the paper:

"Dear Mr Saxon,

We accept the fact that you made us sacrifice a whole Saturday in detention for whatever it was we did wrong. What we did was wrong, but we think you're crazy to make us write an essay telling you who we think we are. You see us as you want to see us. In the simplest terms. The most convenient definitions. But what we discovered is that we can be a brain, an athlete, a basket-case, a princess or a criminal. We could be all of the above. But we don't need to define ourselves for you, or for anyone else.

Does that answer your question?

Sincerely yours ..."

Rose grinned at Martha across the table. "I love it. Brilliant. I just hope we're gone by the time he reads it."

"The only problem is that I don't know how to sign it," Martha sighed. She tapped her pencil against the desk in thought. "I wanted something that sums us all up, you know?"

"What about 'The Breakfast Club'." Yet again, all heads turned to look at Donna, who was studying her nails. "What? We were in ridiculously early this morning; I know I didn't have time to eat anything. We met at breakfast, it only seems logical."

Rose looked to Jack, who nodded, then Martha, who was smiling. "I like it." They all watched as Martha carefully signed the essay, before placing it on the table where Saxon would see it. "Looks like we're done here."

They picked up their bags and filed out of the room. At the last second Rose turned back. "I don't trust Saxon to actually let him out," she told them, before grabbing the keys and running back over to the cupboard door.

The Doctor's head jerked up as the door was flung open, and Rose just about jumped inside. She grabbed his hand tightly in hers, and whispered "run!"

By the time Saxon arrived there was only the faint sound of rubber soled shoes slapping on the floor to indicate that anyone had even been in the library. He crossed to the empty desks and picked up the piece of paper. After reading what was written on it he scowled and crumpled the "essay" in his hand, hurling it angrily across the room. He had meant to crush their spirits, and it seemed that they had managed to find some sort of hidden strength and rebellious spirit from somewhere, probably inspired by John Smith.

Damn it.

Outside the building they said their goodbyes. Rose hugged Martha fiercely, making sure that each had the other's number and hoping that they would become as close as she hoped. Donna stood by a little awkwardly but Martha laughed and pulled her by the arm, the three girls group hugging on the steps before Martha gave quick hugs to the boys – Rose suspected she might've fancied the Doctor a little, from the way she way she looked at her feet when he let her go – and ran over to the car where her mum was waiting for her.

Donna beckoned the Doctor over and hugged him, before whispering something that Rose couldn't hear in his ear. She then walked over to Jack and raised an eyebrow, which caused Jack to turn and tell Rose and the Doctor that he was walking Donna home. They walked off down the road together, and Rose could hear Donna warning Jack that if he tried anything stupid then she was not opposed to kicking him very hard in the crotch.

"I'm waiting for the bus," Rose said quietly, nodding her head towards the bus stop sign next to her.

"Want me to wait with you?"

Rose considered. "No, it's OK, you can go home if you want." She pretended not to notice when the Doctor took a step closer to her, continuing to look for the bus that was blatantly not going to arrive for another 20 minutes. She waited until he was so close he was almost touching her before spinning around and facing him. He brought one hand up to her face and used it to cup her cheek, all the time looking at her with his mesmerising brown eyes. Those beautiful orbs made it impossible for Rose to look away or react before he kissed her. This time it was soft and tentative and gentle, and over way too soon for Rose's liking. The Doctor stepped away from her, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"I'll see you on Monday then, Rose Tyler." He gave her that grin, the sort that made her feel like her lungs were being run over by a bus, because she couldn't seem to take a breath, then he turned around and set off around the back of the school. Rose was smiling long after he had disappeared from sight.

The Doctor walked alone across the football fields behind the school, long coat wrapped closely around him, hands in his pockets. After checking that there was no-one around to see him, he let a smile slowly spread across his face, eyes crinkling and mouth stretching as far as it could go without something snapping. He wasn't sure exactly why – just that feeling that everything was good and nothing could ever go wrong that very occasionally makes an appearance in the brains and hearts of most humans at some point. And the Doctor's reason for feeling ridiculously and illogically happy was currently waiting at the bus stop in the drizzle, hoping that she wouldn't get fired from her job after missing her shift because she was in detention.

The Doctor raised an arm and punched the air in wild euphoria. Today had been a good day.


End file.
